old coffee coarses through me
can’t feel a heartbeat
going too quick to pick up a pulse
a sign of life
a drug yet a luxury
-integrity-
_prosperity of humanity_
and you have none while you continue to slander
my name
my _name_
being mentioned in rooms i’ve never stepped in
without my control,
a once blank canvas would soon be used as a form of blame and through it peace in you-
preconceived notions are drawn in the minds of associates and strangers
better than an aged painter in the studio he’s only ever known
yet this painter is blindfolded
while this oblivious painter intently tunes in
to sympathize with the selective truths you dispose
‘how could she??’ they say
beautiful
in an unconventional way
for you to teach them what they don’t want to be
whilst they choose what to hear
words sifted once again like the selection of the finest grain
rejects strawn amongst the boulder
you were once beautiful
a sweet dandelion left to a stem with a rigid bulb at the top
not hideous just no longer wished upon
unfortunately
there’s no lights in this room
just brushes sprawled all out on the rug
with a ray of sunkissed light coming through the duvets-
it’s a bother but you
bring it up when others do
used to be the highlight of the room
but now just something that reluctantly grew on you
you want the dark but i only wish light amongst you past lover
you continue to lead-
incite fine strokes in them for my self portrait
for better or worse
i refuse to recognize for myself
using colors i’d never think you’d use- their masterpiece being guided by your bitter words
i blamed myself for an instant-
something you’d never do
leading me to believe that your heart
never was truly pure when i was with you
Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
old coffee coarses through me
can’t feel a heartbeat
going too quick to pick up a pulse
a sign of life
a drug yet a luxury
-integrity-
_prosperity of humanity_
and you have none while you continue to slander
my name
my _name_
being mentioned in rooms i’ve never stepped in
without my control,
a once blank canvas would soon be used as a form of blame and through it peace in you-
preconceived notions are drawn in the minds of associates and strangers
better than an aged painter in the studio he’s only ever known
yet this painter is blindfolded
while this oblivious painter intently tunes in
to sympathize with the selective truths you dispose
‘how could she??’ they say
beautiful
in an unconventional way
for you to teach them what they don’t want to be
whilst they choose what to hear
words sifted once again like the selection of the finest grain
rejects strawn amongst the boulder
you were once beautiful
a sweet dandelion left to a stem with a rigid bulb at the top
not hideous just no longer wished upon
unfortunately
there’s no lights in this room
just brushes sprawled all out on the rug
with a ray of sunkissed light coming through the duvets-
it’s a bother but you
bring it up when others do
used to be the highlight of the room
but now just something that reluctantly grew on you
you want the dark but i only wish light amongst you past lover
you continue to lead-
incite fine strokes in them for my self portrait
for better or worse
i refuse to recognize for myself
using colors i’d never think you’d use- their masterpiece being guided by your bitter words
i blamed myself for an instant-
something you’d never do
leading me to believe that your heart
never was truly pure when i was with you
